


when they got scared

by BlueWall (MsMrs)



Series: through the years [7]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Boys In Love, Childhood Friends, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Future Fic, Good Friend Mike Wheeler, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Protective Mike Wheeler, Sharing a Bed, some of it is pre-slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-08-25 23:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16670542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMrs/pseuds/BlueWall
Summary: A collection of short drabbles about various scary moments in Will's and Mike's lives.aka a good excuse for me to write Byler cuddles. Tags will change over time.





	1. 1976 - Swings and Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to write some shorts. No idea where this is headed or how frequently I'm gonna update. But yeah, here you go.

Will Byers was scared. Not monster-lurking-in-the-dark scared. That would have been easy enough to fix with a nightlight. Will didn‘t think a nightlight would do him any good right now. It was broad daylight after all and the sun wasn‘t even about to set anytime soon.

 

Will‘s foot scraped across the sand under the swing set. He sighed. This was his life now. All alone with all these children he didn‘t know. His mom had left him here for the day. Jonathan was nowhere near either. No, Will Byers was all alone. And sad. And _scared_.

 

He had just started hugging himself in his old, dry waxed jacket that was so large his hands didn‘t even stick out of the sleeves, when someone approached. A boy with black hair that was a bit too long, a bit too unruly, thrown around by the September breeze. He looked... weird. A bit like a frog, actually, and his green jacket made that impression worse.

 

The boy didn‘t smile. He just stopped a few feet away from Will, pouting a bit with his thick lips. Will looked at him. The boy looked at his own feet. „H-Hi.“ he squeaked.

 

„Hi?“ Will half-asked, unsure what to make of all this.

 

„Can I sit down?“ the black-haired boy asked shyly.

 

Will exhaled his relief, because up until now he really thought he might end up beaten with his face in the sand. But sitting down next to someone else? He could imagine worse things. Will nodded. He felt the tiny vibration in the swing‘s chains when the boy sat.

 

Nothing happened after that for a while - kids were still laughing, running, chasing each other. Everyone except small, lonely, _scared_ Will Byers. And some other boy who Will carefully inspected out of the corner of his eyes from time to time.

 

„I-“ the boy started, but ended up coughing awkwardly. „I‘m Michael.“

 

Will really looked at him then. „I‘m William.“

 

Michael chewed on the inside of his cheek. Will thought it looked funny. „Are you-“

 

„D‘you wanna be my friend?“

 

Will‘s words got stuck somewhere on the way out. They jammed his throat and he even stopped breathing for a second or two. „Y-your friend?“ he stammered, but scolded himself in his mind because it almost sounded like he was stupid enough not to know what that word even meant. Just because he had never had a friend.

 

„Yeah.“ Michael said. „‘cause I‘d like to be your friend.“

 

The moment it took Will to contemplate if this was all just a joke passed quickly. „O-Okay. I wanna be your friend, Michael.“ That instant, somewhere deep inside of him something entirely new happened. Bubbles tickled Will‘s stomach. They were warm and tingly and everywhere and Will just smiled. He smiled like he didn‘t think he‘d ever done before.

 

„My mom calls me Mike when she‘s not mad at me.“

 

Will giggled. „My mom calls me Will. Even when she‘s mad at me.“

 

„Don‘t... don‘t you wanna swing, _Will_?“ Mike asked. As quickly as the warm, bubbly feeling had found Will, it left. Because Will was scared. But how was he supposed to tell his friend that he was a baby who is scared of going too high on the swings?

 

„Don‘t feel like it.“ he mumbled.

 

„Are you sure? It‘s fun.“

 

„Yeah, I‘m sure.“ Will let out a shaky breath.

 

„Or are you scared? You look scared.“ Mike‘s question came out of the blue. It felt like what Will imagined being punched would feel like, so tears welled up faster than he could even think of forcing them back down. He looked at Mike, hurt, _scared_ , only to find his friend smiling. „Want me to help?“

 

„How?“ Will asked.

 

„Like this.“ Mike extended his hand for Will to take it, and because Will didn‘t want to seem like even more of a baby, he took it. His long, threadbare sleeve fell over both their hands. Mike laughed.

 

 _I‘m five. Not a baby. I‘m five. Not a baby._ He told himself over and over again. And Mike started swinging. And Will had no choice but let himself be dragged along.

 

„This okay?“

 

It was. More than okay, actually. The swings went higher and higher, until Will thought his feet might touch the puffy clouds. Heart hammering in his chest with nothing but excitement, he looked over to see Mike‘s fluffy hair flying backwards, forwards, sideways until it turned into a blur around his head.

 

Will shrieked. Mike shrieked. The children on the playground were small from up here. So small that Will didn‘t have to fear them anymore. Because Will had a friend. And he wasn‘t scared anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, maybe? I got chapter 2 about finished, just waiting for your approval. :) Nah, I'm gonna put it out after work.


	2. 1979 - Storms and Blankets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Well, I think this is actually so sweet I should issue a Diabetes warning. I just asked myself the question of how exactly Mike's blanket fort came to be.

Crack after crack of thunder came rolling down from the angry skies above the Wheeler house. The storm hadn‘t come as a surprise; The humid summer heat, that had made life to unbearable for a week, couldn‘t have just vanished into thin air. It had just been a matter of time.

 

Now it was here. Lightning painted the walls of the basement white for fractions of a second, every time a new wave of thunder came around. And Will was scared. Out of the three of them, himself, Mike and Lucas, he appeared to be the only one still awake. Awake and shivering in utter fear.

 

But Will was eight years old, for crying out loud, and if his dad could see him now, not an inch of his shivering body sticking out of the sleeping back, he‘d give Will a reason to _really_ be scared. It wasn‘t even like Will could control it, though. He knew well enough the thunder couldn‘t hurt him. Which didn‘t help the fact that he jumped at every new electric discharge.

 

 _That‘s all it is._ Will told himself once more to get his racing heart under control. _An electric discharge that‘s so unbelievably hot, the air around it expands fast enough to break the sound barrier. Like a jet fighter._

 

A thought that wasn‘t comforting in the least. Will just curled up into an even smaller ball when a particularly bright flash of light pierced his eyelids. He couldn‘t do a lot but brace himself for the clap of thunder he knew was about to come only a second later, because that storm really was right above them.

 

_Boom!_

 

„Ah!“ A strangled yelp ripped from Will‘s throat when the ceiling collapsed and just buried him. This was the end. Lightning had struck the house. The debris was probably burning, there was no way out, there was- But that wasn‘t it. No, really thinking about it, the thought of the Wheeler home collapsing was ridiculous. All that Will _really_ felt was a pair of hands on his shoulder.

 

„Will?“ Mike shook him gently through his sleeping bag. „You okay in there?“ He spoke quietly, though if the thunder couldn‘t wake Lucas up, their voices would hardly be loud enough for that, even if they were shouting.

 

„Y-yeah.“ squealed Will, slowly trying to peek out into the dark basement.

 

„Doesn‘t look like it.“ came the response, just as Will‘s well-adjusted eyes recognized his best friend‘s scowling face hovering above him in the dark. „You‘re scared, right?“

 

„Yeah.“ Will wouldn‘t lie. Not to Mike, not in a billion years. The truth was, his best friend being awake made it a bit better.

 

„You need anything?“ asked Mike, brows furrowing. „Like, really, anything?“

 

„Dunno. I mean y-you can‘t stop the storm.“

 

„No.“ Mike cackled a bit. „Just thought I could-“ He trailed off, staring into the darkness of the room. „Hang in there, I‘ll be right back.“

 

Mike was gone. Assaulted by yet another thunderclap, Will wrapped himself in the sleeping bag once more. He pressed his eyes shut and waited. He didn‘t hope. Why would he? Mike had said he‘d be back, so that was that. No hope needed for certainty. His nimble footsteps could be heard on the stairs, once walking up, once coming down only a minute later. Some rustling in the room around Will followed, along with the distinct sound of first furniture, then a sleeping bag being dragged across the carpet.

 

All that was interrupted by _Bangs_ and _Booms_ too many times to count. Until Mike really was back right next to Will, nudging him carefully to open his eyes. Something about the room was different. Will only realized what it was when he found the missing table moved up against the wall with a blanket hung around it. Lifted up at the front, Will could make out a great many pillows with Mike‘s sleeping bag right in the middle.

 

„Get in.“ his friend urged. It was an order, and while Will had no idea where this was going, he crawled into the dark blue and orange bag. Warmth engulfed him this instance. It was well needed; after the storm had raged on for four hours or more, nothing was left of the summer heat. But on top of being warm, Will also felt oddly safe in this confined space. Like nothing and no one could ever get to him in here. Like Mike had just built an indestructible fortress around him.

 

„You wanna use my sleeping bag now?“ he yawned. „I mean, it‘s old and kinda ripped, and-“

 

„Actually...“ Mike started carefully, curious eyes resting on Will. And just as careful as he had spoken, Mike just crawled up next to Will and into the still zipped-open sleeping bag. He wasn‘t even hesitant about it, the way he acted like this was just a normal thing to do.

 

Will of course knew that wasn‘t something boys should do. His father never got tired of telling him this; Boys don‘t like soft things. They fight, and scrape their knees, and give each other wedgies and Chinese burns. And boys definitely don‘t cry just because the clouds are throwing some noise down at them.

 

But here Will was, his cheeks burning up at the feeling of his best friend inching closer and closer until they were laying side by side, shoulders touching. „I‘m sweaty.“ he complained meekly.

 

„Me too.“ Mike retorted. „D‘you mind?“ Slowly, as not to wake Lucas, who could be heard snoring from somewhere between the table and the old couch, he pulled the zipper up.

 

„N-No.“

 

„Are you still scared?“

 

„Not as much.“ Will answered truthfully, because even now he couldn‘t keep himself from flinching at every clap of thunder.

 

„How about...“ Mike wiggled to roll over, draping one arm and one leg entirely over Will, who took in a sharp breath out of surprise. „How about now? Better?“

 

„Hmm.“ Will sighed, finally able to relax fully.

 

He knew he should probably get some sleep. Every inch of his body yearned for it, after hours of tense shivering and suppressed cries of fear. But he also knew this would be over in the morning, so Will forced his eyes open time and time again, with Mike softly snoring next to him. Just to enjoy the feeling of being safe and unafraid even in the middle of a thunderstorm.

 

Will didn‘t know yet that even twenty years from now, the people of Hawkins would still call this the infamous ‚ _Thunderstorm of ‘79_ ‘ _._ He didn‘t know he was going to wake up to the news of a severe flood that had washed over the lower parts of town, causing seven-figure damage and leaving the roads blocked for days.

 

Will didn‘t know he‘d eventually get to feel safe, and protected, and warm like this every night of his life.

 

He already knew he‘d remember this night, though. Not for all the mayhem, or the TV and radio news the following days. Just for being able to brave a storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just my ship. I'm not even sorry that this chapter is definitely too long to be just a drabble.


	3. 2013 - Scalpels and Disinfectant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get a look into the future.  
> I'm kinda sorry about this chapter to be honest.

„I‘m so fucking scared.“

 

Will couldn‘t stand it. He had barely ever heard Mike just that desperate. But the truth was, Will wasn‘t scared at all. „I‘m not.“

 

When Mike looked at him, both offended and maybe slightly amused, Will quirked an eyebrow. „No, really.“ he said. It was odd enough. Will had every reason to be scared. For one, he hated hospitals and doctors. He hated hospital gowns and needles and the smell of disinfectant.

 

He hated how short his hair was. And he seriously hated the cool breeze blowing across the bald spot where the doctors would cut or saw him open to get that tumor out. He considered himself lucky there wasn‘t a mirror in this room. But they also told him the hair would grow back, so ultimately it was a small trade-off for not dying.

 

„I just don‘t know what... I mean, I can‘t even think about what I‘d do if...“ Mike went on, voice giving in over and over again.

 

„Then don‘t think about it. They‘re gonna cut little Troy out of me and we go on with our lives.“

 

„Troy?“ Mike gasped. „What the hell are you talking about?“

 

„Figured I should give him a name. So I can hate him more.“ Will snickered. „Plus, someone called Troy will never be allowed to fuck up my life.“

 

Mike seriously laughed them, but the sound also mixed with barely hidden sobs when his head sunk down to rest on Will‘s shoulder. „It‘s gonna be five hours.“

 

„The longest five hours of your life, huh?“ Will said gently. „I know you‘re gonna get through it. No more ‚what-ifs‘, okay? You‘ve heard Doctor Burrows. It‘s benign, there‘s no brain damage. And they‘ve done this kind of surgery countless times.“

 

As far as Will understood, the real risk here was just the fact that they were about to open up his skull and stir around in his brain. Not a comfortable thought, sure, but again, Will wasn‘t scared. Which didn‘t seem to do a lot of good for Mike.

 

„Hey...“ Will whispered into his husband‘s unruly hair. „Nothing‘s gonna happen. All they‘re gonna do is fix my headache. Who knows...“

 

„Who knows what?“ Mike raised his head to show Will his now red swollen eyes.

 

Will only smirked. „Remember when I studied these ancient Greek reliefs in college?“

 

„I- I think? What about them?“

 

„Y‘know, one day Zeus had a headache. And he ordered Hephaestus to split his skull. You know what happened?“

 

„What?“

 

„Athena was born. It‘s true. His daughter just came out of his head in full armor.“

 

„ _True..._ “ Mike snorted. „Sure. I take it, you want another one? Would be better than getting a goddamn Troy out of this whole thing.“

 

„Ah, I‘d say we got our hands full as it is. Give it a few years.“ Will laughed. They both laughed. They laughed and laughed and maybe cried a little.

 

Until there was a knock on the open door. „Mr. Byers?“ the young nurse, no older than twenty-five, said. „It‘s time.“

 

Will nodded solemnly. Mike‘s face instantly fell again. He looked so old like this. Utterly exhausted with dark rings under his eyes. „It‘s... Amber, right?“

 

The nurse smiled, nodding.

 

„Would you do me a favor and look after my husband?“

 

There was no quick-witted response from Mike. No sarcasm. „That won‘t be a problem. Maybe you want something to calm you and get you to sleep?“ the nurse asked warmly. „We could find you a couch and a blanket.“

 

Mike shook his head in his usual, stubborn way, but Will just showed a relieved smile. „That would be great, Amber.“

 

They kissed goodbye. More than once, until Will was sure he‘d have to push his shaking husband off to finally be able to go into surgery. Mike eventually let go, his eyes never leaving Will until the first set of doors closed behind the rolling bed, separating them.

 

* * *

 

There was no light. Only heavy, unrelenting darkness. And voices. Hushed voices that appeared to be talking to each other. Unintelligible for the most part. Some words stuck out, though.

 

„...all good...“

 

„...really...late...home...“

 

„...no...right now...tomorrow...“

 

„...week...more...okay...“

 

„...Will...better...“

 

 _Will!_ Oh yeah, that was his name. It felt like he was dragging himself back from a dark place. Much like that time so many years ago. That time he really didn‘t want to think about right now. His weary eyes allowed him to look through a small slit. The whole light-situation wasn‘t much better out there. The lamp in the corner of the sterile room came into view, and Will realized why. It was night. Of course it was night, or at least evening.

 

„Hmm...“ he hummed. His vision, still blurred, picked up some movement.

 

„Will?“ Mike‘s frantic voice came through to him from far, far away. „Can you hear me?“

 

„Shh...“ another voice hushed. „Not so loud.“

 

„Uhhh...“ Will groaned. „El? That you?“ His eyes focused and lost focus periodically. But yeah, there she was. His sister was really here, which meant...

 

Finally, Will‘s eyes really managed to open. His entire body still felt heavy, his limbs probably wouldn‘t obey his commands so he tried not to move too much. And there they were. „Hey, you two. It‘s past your bedtime.“ he slurred, grinning.

 

„Daddy!“ the twins gasped, almost in unison. And all stern words from Mike, all warnings to be careful, were overheard when Edward and Martha bounced on to the bed to let Will drape his arms around them.


End file.
